


Devil's Dance Floor

by IdrissPukka



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-07-11 23:20:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7074922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IdrissPukka/pseuds/IdrissPukka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I know I have other stories, but these things pop into my head and I have bad impulse control concerning stories.  Hope you like the new one.</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I know I have other stories, but these things pop into my head and I have bad impulse control concerning stories. Hope you like the new one.

After he was tested for the Animagus skill in the second year of Auror training, Harry Potter didn't expect it to have lead here; to hiding out in the dense forest of northern Georgia during the apocolypse just a few months after he accepted his last Auror mission before starting to teach practical dueling at Hogwarts for fifth years and above.

His form, an African lion (typical sandy brown fur with a very dark reddish brown mane and uncommon green eyes), was much laughed at among his friends and sneered at by those who never grew up after the final battle and the almost destruction of Hogwarts (oddly enough Draco Malfoy wasn't part of that group).  This last mission was supposed to take him to a nature and animal preserve in the Savannah where as Laith (Luna's name for the massive lion he became.  It was unusual enough that no one ever matched that name with his animagus form) Harry could track the poachers that were trapping and killing the small wyverns they then later sold to unsuspecting muggles on holiday.  He had worked with the African Magical Enclaves (their terms for Ministry of Magic) and knew that he could get the results needed to take down the poaching ring.  Harry just didn't expect to be ambushed and taken out of the country himself days before the operation came to fruition.

As it was the thirty year old Auror was cursing his Potter luck once again as he found himself being cornered by the ravenous undead.  He didn't often stray from his secure tent as a human, but he needed to dismantle the non-magical traps and early warning system he was using before moving to a new area.  It was his own damn fault for not noticing the six Inferi that came shambling out of the woods behind him.

Even as Harry dodged blood encrusted hands, he could hear Hermione's voice in his head (They are not true Inferi Harry.  Be it spell or sickness that has created this monstrosity they are not being controlled by a Dark wizard, you have proven that months ago), and forced himself to focus on the danger he was currently end so as to not give in to the crushing depression that threatened to overwhelm him as he remembered his friends.

Still Harry called the corpses Inferi, as he had to call them something, and drew his wand and fired off the first spell.

"Alarte Ascendare!" Harry cried, tossing the largest of the bodies high into the air to only come crashing down upon two other corpses.  Those knocked down would suffer some bodily damage, and while it wouldn't be enough to kill the monsters it was enough to give Harry breathing room as he fought the other three.

"Incendere telum!" Harry cast only managing to drop one of the corpses as the arrows flew from Harry's wand.  Normally that spell would not be cast in anything but a training facility, but Harry had found the perfect blend of power and intent for the arrows to disappear only a few feet from the caster.  

The last of the walking corpses were nearly upon him now, as the other three had righted themselves out somehow and were crawling along the forest floor toward a dodging Harry.  There was no time to pick them off one by one, Harry needed to take out the remaining five in one big burst of magic if he was to be able to get to safety.  

Dancing backward to create more room between the five Inferi and himself, Harry swept his wand in a wide arch to encompasses the five bodies before calling out the aroow shooting spell again.  This time all the bodies were impaled by the conjured metal arrows.  Pointing his wand upward to the sky. Harry pulled forth his magic, and called down chain lightening to strick the metal arrows.  

Blue fire danced between all five points, and throughout the five bodies.  The cantena lumen spell had enough force to completely destroy the brain of the person or persons it was cast upon, and one by one the bodies fell to the forest floor dead as they should have been all along.  

Panting for breath Harry settled back against a tree and slid to rest upon the forest floor.  More and more of the dead were showing up in this area every day and Harry was hard pressed to find a secure location.  As it was, Harry was only as safe as his magic was able to hold the different spells and enchaments he placed at each location he camped at.  

"Bloody fecking hell, I'm getting to old for this shit," Harry sighed out even as he almost negligently pointed his wand and summoned a small flame of controlled fire to burn the bodies.  He wasn't sure what was causing the dead to rise up and walk again, but he knew that decaying human flesh was hazardous for anyone that wanted to use the site in the future.

It took nearly an hour for the bodies to burn to ashes and cool off.  Once it was over Harry flicked his wand and vanished the ashes.  He wondered sometime where the ashes went once vanished but it almost always lead back to thinking of Hermione and Ron so Harry quit thinking of it.  As he left the area Harry gathered up his trap making material and walked the few hundred feet toward camp.

He was lucky that he still had a camp to go to.  Once he was promoted to an undercover Auror, Harry was required to carry a survival kit (the kit included a roomy three person magical tent and enough food in preservation spells for a year) that Harry carried in a specialized magical tattoo inked on his left shoulder.  The tattoo itself was a simple yet intricate black line tattoo of a lion's face and mane.  Embedded in the tattoo were special runes that somehow linked a localized pocket dimension to the tattoo and Harry was able to keep the shrunken tent and that it contained with him in either form.  He didn't completely understand the magic behind the whole thing, but that was really par for the course when it came to magical theory.

As Harry hoped the tent was undisturbed and with a few more flicks and swishes of his wand, everything was packed up.  Once the tent was shrunk to the size of a small matchbox Harry placed it to the tattoo (he learned early on to just leave his left shoulder bare in case he needed to be on the move in a hurry) and willed the tent to be absorbed, leaving his hand now free and clear in case an emergency happened.

Bottle green eyes looked around the small area he called home for a few weeks.  The forest was getting dangerous, even more so than being out in the open.  The thick trees his the walking dead and humans alike.  Harry figured that it was time to try finding more people, there were almost always safety in numbers (and that was now more true than before),


	2. Chapter 2

Harry walked for hours.  He never came across anymore of the undead, but he knew they were somewhere in the forest.  He had stumbled upon a deserted and destroyed tent set in a clearing just a few miles from where he had been camped.  The splashes of dried blood around the outside of the tent gave evidence to what happened.  The only real question was how long it happened and how many survived.  By the amount of carnage Harry guessed that very few people made it away safely.

It was terrifying how quickly everything fell apart.  It was only due to paranoia that Harry had been able to escape the holding facility he had been trapped in as Laith.  Even now he wasn't sure what city he had been in, just knew that it was north of Georgia.  Once Harry had escaped, he began to make his way south, to Florida and The Magic Kingdom (America's answer to Diagon Ally and the clever way to hide in plain sight).  Once he had understood to stay away from people, Harry took to the foresrt , sometimes travelling as Laith sometimes not.

It had been a couple days since Harry had shifted to Laith, and once away from the lonely campsite Harry pulled his magic inward, quickly changing forms from a thirty year old Auror to a large and healthy African lion.  With a louad roar he set off at a fast pace, his paws silent as he moved.  Scents were sharper as Laith and the undead was easily avoided.  There were more than expected which only reaffirmed Harry's belief that the roving undead were beginning to form herds, using the advantage of sheer numbers to overwhelm any surviving people.  He didn't think the dead carried any sort of recognisable intelligence, but something had to left behind that activated once the dead rose again.  He needed more information and for that he needed people.  Someone somewhere had to know something.

 It was nearing nightfall when Harry finally walked out of the forest.  He had left the sickly decaying stench of the walking dead a couple mikes ago, but he knew that there always more just waiting around the corner.  Before stepping completely out of the treeline, Harry once more changed into his human form.  Despite never being aggressive around the few other people he had met as Laith, Harry had been shot at twice and almost captured once.  In either form Harry had learned to be cautious.

Once his human body was settled, and the backpack was secured Harry walked out of the treeline, eye moving back and forth to take everything in.  He couldn't see any people on this stretch of road, but that could be due in part to the rather large traffic jam just up the road.  He had come across several such sights which usually meant that there were trapped dead in either the vehicles or underneath them.  Harry didn't fancy trying to scout a sleepin gplace but he was tired, and didn't have time to set up the tent and wards.

He compromised and settled for sleeping in the front seat of a large shipping rig, after casting several layered wards around the large truck of course.  They were ugly those wards, designed to imbolize an invading  _thing_ until Harry could take care of it, and he was just lucky those corpses were recognized as invading and therefore dangerous things.  The wards had a downfall of course, one being the larger area to ward the less effective they were.  Another such downfall was due in part to Harry's lack of training in casting wards (the camping trip from hell not withstanding because Hermione had the only working wand for so long that she did all the ward work), and what was lost due to inexperience was made up in power.  To end his day Harry ate a simple meal and watched the sun fall below the horizon. 

Sometime during the night Harry was woken up by a tugging on the wards, but after a few minutes whatever it was went away, the wards releasing it as it didn't pose a threat to the Harry.  He grumbled a bit before settling down again.  It wouldn't be until late the next morning that Harry was woken up by a loud rumbling roar of a badly maintained motorcycle and for just a minute he was taken back to the summer he turned seventeen and the escape from the Dursley's house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No spells for this chapter as I see the animagus transformation as instintactual once it's learned. As for the wards, I didn't really check, although I know that in the DH book Hermione did pit some up that would keep them safe and hiddened.


	3. Chapter 3

There were people, alive people and that meant information.  Harry sat up and tidied the cab of the rig.  There wasn't much in the way of trash, and everything could easily fit into the backpack he used when walking as a human.  A day's worth of dried food, a blanket, and several bottles of water was all he carried.  He didn't carry anything beside his wand for a weapon, so he shouldn't look to intimidating.  

Harry couldn't stop grinning, there were people...and yes there was a chance that wouldn't be civil with a lone man, but Harry really couldn't afford to pass up the chance of talking to someone.

Moving so he could see out of the window and watch the slow progression of the person on the motorcycle, Harry thought out a plan of action.  He couldn't be too eager to meet them and he couldn't be defensive.  Obviously he couldn't explain about magic (Harry wasn't sure that the Statute of Secrecy was still in effect or not), and Harry had never before needed as cover story as to why an obvious British citizen was in the American south.

Glancing out of the window again Harry watched as the bike drove past followed by a very well loved recreational vehicle, and that was followed by a few more cars.

"Huh...maybe they're Gypsies...American must have them too," Harry said outloud as he watched the convoy stopped and dark oily smoke rose up from underneath the hood of the Rv.  Everyone had stepped out of their respective vehicles and Harry did a quick headcount; two children, three women, and six men.  Eleven people weren't much before the world went to shit, but these days that was a whole hell of a lot to meet at one point.

Whatever ever the group had been discussing was apparently dropped for now as people began drifting off to search the cars.  The idea had merit, since a group this size must be always in the need of something, but there was no one on watch and no one to check that the undead weren't lurking around.

"Feck's sake, do they want to get killed?" Harry wondered as he watched one woman just casually open a back door to a car and start rummaging around the open suitcase.  It seemed they did as no one had any visible weapons beside one or two of the men, and they were all huddled around the smoking engine of the RV.

Harry in good conscious couldn't sit back and watch this group continue on as it was...there were children counted among them, and Harry still had a rather large 'saving people complex'.  Gathering his supplies and making sure that he made enough noise for someone to look his way, Harry opened the door and proceeded to carefully climb down the short ladder all the while facing one shotgun, a couple revolvers and one crossbow.  The last of which belonged to the motorcycle riding man, and was the first of the weapons to be pointed his way.

Once Harry was on solid ground he held his hands up and stepped away from the rig.  The crossbow weilder never wavered and Harry directed his attention to the older man instead of anyone else.

"Watch it there mate," Harry said with his hands up in the universal sign as being unarmed "you've got nothing to fear from me.  I just want to talk is all."

"Talk?  Rick man you're not going to listen to him are you?  He could be a trap," a man standing closest to the group of women said.  He was the one holding the shotgun and Harry hadn't felt that level of mistrust and derision since attending Potions with Snape.

"While that might be a possibility, he's just one man and not visibly armed.  There's no harm in sharing information after all," the man Rick (Harry assumed since he was the one to answer) said and holstered his weapon before coming closer.  Harry noticed that he didn't come within arm's reach and stood behind the one with the crossbow.  That moved screamed of professional training and Harry was a bit more impressed.

"Yeah I had a friend who could argue that statement and win, but information is all I want and then I'll be on my merry way," Harry replied putting his hands down in the process.  When no one moved to stop him Harry knew that unless he did something horrible he was safe, "you all mind if I get something to eat?  The motorcycle, which needs a tune up and possible oil change by the way, woke me up."

"What the hell you know ya Micky bastard?" The man with the crossbow growled.  Harry had obviously hit a nerve but it didn't stop him from grinning even as he began to pull out water and something to eat.  

"My godfather had a 1959 Triumph 650 T 120 Bonneville.  It was a lovely shade of blue.  When he died in 1996 I got it, taught myself how to keep it running," Harry replied, green clashing with blue and Harry could just see a hint of a grin stretch the man's lips, "he named her Ingrid, after Ingrid Bergman from Casablanca."

"Happy joy and fuck all the redneck made a friend, but can we get back to the possible trap?" Shotgun Guy said, still glaring at Harry like he personally stepped on the last chocolate bar ever made.

"Shane I think everything is okay, why don't you go with the ladies and help them look for supplies, it seems to be too quiet now," Rick said while clapping a hand in Shane's shoulder.  Harry, who many would argue was probably not the mist observant person ever, didn't miss the little tick of malice that flashed from Shane's eyes before the man nodded and turned away.  Harry really hoped that Rick would watch his back around Shane, and for some reason Harry knew he wouldn't until it was too late.

 As Shane turned around to leave the other men of the group shifted closer to Harry and his bag.  He couldn't see what was so interesting about a ratty backpack, but Harry was going to turn them away.  He had nothing to hide anyway.

"How long have you out here alone son?  The way things are its dangerous for a person on their own," a man asked, his festive Hawaiian shirt rippling just a bit in the small breeze.

"Well that's up for debate really," Harry began to answer as he ate his oat cake (freshly made the other day with dried fruit, quick cooking oats and honey all baked in the wood oven he had in his tent, although these people didn't need to know that) "you see before this happened I was on an assignment in the African Savannah to track down a band of poachers.  Before I could complete the job I was captured and taken out of the country to somewhere north of Georgia.  

I had only just escaped and went looking for a contact that I knew lived in Florida when this happened," Harry answered sweeping out a hand to encompass all that was around them.

"What are you some kinda of James Bond wanna-be spy?" the young Asian man asked, eyeing the oat cakes with more than a little interest.

Harry grinned and handed over the last half of his oat cake.  "Oh no, I'm no where like that, but I am an agent in my country's service pledged by word and deed to protect her interest both foreign and domestic."

Crossbow, or Dixon whether that was a first or last name, snorted and turned away to watch the treeline.  Harry counted that as a win that at least one person didn't think he was dangerous to bear watching anymore.  Harry drank the last of water for that morning and cleaned up his small mess.  Just because the world was ending didn't mean that he had to live like a pig.

"So you wanted information, that implies that you are willing to trade the same.  What do you know?" Rick asked, even as he scanned the other members of the group.  The woman were still going through the cars, and Shane was still scowling at Harry.  So far there wasn't any sign of the walkers.

"Honestly not that much.  I do know that the freshly turned or risen, I suppose, are harder to put down than older corpses.  Their bodies are fresher, the bones harder to crush, and they're stronger.  The rate of decay seems to slow to a crawl, or even stop on some cases.  If you are out of their sight they are hard pressed to notice you, but their sense of smell seems to be enhanced," Harry began, slowly recalling every observation he had made since the start of the end.

"In some cases it seems to be that an echo of their life remains, often the walking corpses will return to things they knew when alive.  What that means I couldn't tell you.  I also know that if you smell like you belong, or are in a area that smells heavily like them, you get left alone."

Rick and his group nodded, most of it was things they had already around out, but some was new.  To Rick it explained why Morgan's wife kept repeatedly coming back to their house.  It wasn't much but these days every little bit helped.

"I hate to tell you this, but all of that we already knew.  There's not much we can share with you.  We do know that the infection kills the brain and then later it somehow restarts it, but all of the higher brain functions are gone.  What's left is the basic of brain activity," Rick replied looking very much sorry that they couldn't share more.

Harry didn't expect much after all so he wasn't all that disappointed.  As it was the morning was already heading into noon, and Harry wanted to be on his way.  He had decided that before the group had showed up to change to Laith and thin out some of the corpses in the surrounding forest.

"Yeah, thats about what I expected," Harry said donning his pack, "one last thing though.  If you have to stay on the road, be extra careful about what's around you.  I noticed this a couple of weeks ago that the corpses are starting to herd together, sounds and lights draw their attention and after that as they move about the group grows larger.  If large enough it could over run the safest of places."

"A herd? Like what, cattle?" a big African American man asked.  He wasn't introduced to Harry before, so his voice slightly startled the displaced Brit.

"No not like cattle.  It's like...have you ever seen swallows flying?  How the flock just seems to move and turn as one?" Harry asked and when a couple of the men nodded yes he continued, "it's like that.  The herd moves as one, turning as one to whatever catches their attention.  They start small, easily dispatched, but once they reach double digits it's just a matter of time before it gets to big to deal with.  If that happens, run and hide and make sure they don't take notice of you."

Harry could tell he had shocked them, but if a person went about in this new world without all the information they wouldn't last long.  He turned back to the tree line, looking up and down, choosing carefully his direction.  He didn't bother with saying goodbye, just waved and left to cross the open patch of ground.  Once he was deep in the trees, Harry choose a spot and set of the magical tent.  After quickly setting the proximity wards Harry stowed away his things and changed into Laith.  Taking a few minutes to stretch his muscle, the wizard turned lion loped off, hunting the sickly sweet scent of death.  The forest was full of the things and Laith would get a work out destroying the unnatural things.


	4. Chapter 4

Rick and the others watched the strange man leave.  From what Rick saw he didn't have much in the way of supplies, and he didn't have a weapon of any kind.  The former sheriff wasn't sure if he would ever see the man again, but if they did he would ask if the black haired man wanted travel with them.  For someone to survive by themselves and on so little meant he was one strong son of a gun.

"You think he's right?  About the herds forming?" Glenn asked, voice rising to a squeak.  Sometimes Rick really forgot how young the Korean was what with the scavaging trips he took in Atlanta by himself.

"Yes Glenn I think he was.  If you were older you might have recognized his eyes," Dale answered, still staring at the spot in the trees their friend had disappeared into.

"What d'ya mean 'bout his eyes?" T-Dog asked just as curious about the new person as the next person would be...well probably not Shane, but that man could bore the hell out of anything these days.

"Those eyes belong to a man that had seen the very best and the very worst of humans.  It seems our young friend had gotten used to be ignored or thought of as unimportant when he chose to speak of important things.  He didn't expect us to believe him, but he couldn't let us go on our way without trying to help out," Dale answered before finally turning around and headed back to the RV.  Maybe it was time to admit that the Ol' Girl had her final run.  It would pain him to leave her behind for a newer model, much like Irma always joked he would do to her someday, right up until the end of the fight with cancer, but it would be best to do it now before they were in really deep trouble.

 The others turned away also, all except for Daryl who scanned the treeline that he could see.  He had never thought about before, but the roads being clear were a blessing and a curse.  If their cars could travel without hitting snags and traffic jams, then so too could the walkers.  Everything from ants to walkers it seemed took the path of least resistance.

"Rick, Shane said something about a trap.  Are we in danger here?  What were you thinking letting that man close to Carl, to me?" Lori asked as she came stomping over to her husband and demanded answers.  Before getting shot in the line of duty and the subsequent waking up from said coma getting shot put him in, Rick and Lori had problems but it seemed that everything these days caused his wife to become angry and to lash out (usually at the closest person which just happened to always be him).

Sighing even as he pulled his wife away from the group to have their latest discussion (argument) in peace Rick answered his wife.

"It wasn't a trap.  It was one lone man who was here before we were Lori, and he left after an exchange of information.  Shane needs to learn to hold his tongue and not spread tales around."

"No, Shane needs to be let in on the desicions more.  You weren't here Rick, and Shane had done so much to keep us safe and protected.  He doesn't deserve to be pushed away from leading this group," Lori said (again) in her defense of Shane.  It was clear to Rick that something had went on between his wife and brother, just as much it was clear that it had stopped now that Rick was back.  Rick didn't need it shoved into his face at every turn that he wasn't there to protect his wife and son.

"I don't know what you are wanting Lori, but Shane needs to calm down before he gets to make any more decisions.  He's my brother and I love him, but I am not blind to his faults.  His anger will get someone hurt one day, and I'm doing all that I can to minimize that right now," Rick said before walking off and helping to organize the supplies the group had found.

It wasn't much, that small pile of half filled bags.  Beyond the water truck, the most that anyone found was clothes.  Rick sighed and helped to carry the bags into the RV.  Later when they had reached a safe place to spend the night, they could separate all that was found and replace any clothing that was too damaged to repair.

As the group milled around while Dale and T-Dog tried to fix the RV, Rick was busy looking at a local map of the area he had found.  Th road they were on would take them to Fort Benning, but there was no guarantee that any help could be found at the army base.  Even just getting there would take blood and sweat and possibly their lives.  One long dirt tipped finger idly traced the colored line that would take the group to Fort Benning when a low voice startled the ex-sheriff

"If'n yer having second thoughts, Friendly, I think yer pal's gonna whop yo ass," the blue eyed hunter drawled, low and easy.  Rick glanced at him and then back at the map.  He was right, Rick knew, but it was still hard to admit.  It wouldn't have been the first time he had made a mistake in judgement, and quite possibly wouldn't be the last, but it could be one that could easily kill any member of the group.

"I know, but which is the biggest mistake, goin' on or goin' somewhere else, closer that we know we can make it to?" Rick asked as he studied the map more closely.  There wasn't much in the way of information, but there was a small town a few miles east.  Most however seemed to be open farm land, good for small herds of cattle.  If the walkers had made it this far, those cattle would seem to be one long buffet for the dead.  What they needed was a large building, off the main roadway but with a good amount of open land around it.  If they had that they could dig in and survive.  If it was large enough they could maybe pull other survivors to them, strength in numbers being the key word of the day.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

Tawny paws ghosted over the underbrush, swift and silent even in the take town as 420 pounds of male African Lion jumped from a crouching position to land upon one of the undead.  Squashing the brittle bone plates of the undead wasn't nearly as satisfying as scouring tooth and claw down the prey's unprotected back, but Laith (Harry) wasn't sure he was immune to infection or not.  

The years spent of being broken down and then repaired to become one of Britain's best Auror had broken the 'rush in with wands blazing' mentality all Gryffindor's seemed to have.  To survive, especially now when it seemed all hope was becoming lost, one had to have the courage of Gryffindor, the intelligence of Ravenclaw, the steadfastness of Hufflepuff and Slytherine's own cunning.  Laith thought (hoped) he had enough to make it back to his family.  As it was the only was he was surviving was the still mostly full supplies he had in his tent and the ability to take out small groups of undead alone.  Should he run into a large enough group Harry, or Laith depending on how and where he was caught, wasn't sure he would leave the encounter alive.

Shifting back into his human shape, Harry quickly used a controlled fire spell to reduce the corpse to ashes.  That had been the fifth one he had taken down this morning as Laith after leaving the people he met on the road.  He was tempted to return, wanting to see if the small group was in relative safety, but that would have been a massive backtrack.  It was true that Harry could apparate close to the section of road he had left them, it wasn't a guarantee that he could do so safely.  As much as he wanted to help every person he came across Harry knew his priority was to somehow get back to England and his family.

Still Harry couldn't shake the feeling that the group he had met on the road would soon be in trouble.  It wasn't a feeling he was used to ignoring, and now was divided in wanting to help and continuing on his way south.  Harry supposed he could take a couple days to help the eleven man group and then continue on, but could those few days of help be worth anything in the long run?  Harry wasn't sure, but he knew it would immediately help and therein was his problem.

Either way he couldn't decide anything now.  He wasn't in a position to ponder the problem and stay safe, surrounded as he was by forest that could be hiding tens if not hundreds of the dead out for a bite to eat.  After the ashes were cooled and vanished, Harry did a spin and apparated back into his tent.  He would take the rest of the afternoon and seriously think about helping Rick and his group.  How long he would stay would be up for debate, but Harry thought that even a few weeks wouldn't hurt his own plans.  

After making a pot of tea and a light lunch, Harry settled down to watch the afternoon sun slide into early evening.  By dinnertime he would have his decision, Harry just hoped that it wouldn't come to bite him on the are later.

After lunch found Harry packing up his tent, dismantling his wards and apparating back to the small clearing near where to road jam was.  He could faintly hear that the group (or a group ) was still around, but it seemed that something bad had happened. There was nothing for it now, and all Harry could do was offer help.

It was the same group, but this time everyone seemed to be clustered around one of the women; an older lady with light graying hair and a worn face.  Making just enough noise that he was noticed, Harry walked up toward the group with raised hands, much like how they first met only hours ago.

"Everyone okay?" he asked as the other women in the group moved closer to the older lady, while the men moved in between Harry and the rest of the group.  Between the three men they had one rifle, one baseball bat, and one seemed hurt if they way he had pressed a thick bandage to his arm was any indication.

"You were here earlier, from the big rig.  What are you doing back here?" the older gentleman asked as he levelled the rifle in Harry's direction.  He didn't seem like the type of man to shoot first and ask questions later, but Harry didn't want to seem like a treat so he stopped well away from the worried group.

"I got to thinking that it wasn't right just leaving, there is better protection in groups after all," Harry said with hands still raised, "and I had a feeling that trouble would be headed is way.  If I can help it would be wrong of me not to offer it."

Green eyes stared into brown and Harry hoped that it was enough for him to be trusted.  When the barrel of the rifle lowered slightly Harry knew it was safe to approach and did so, staring at the man who was wounded.  It didn't appear to be a bite or scratch, but without seeing it, Harry couldn't be sure.  He hoped it wasn't, loosing a comrade does nothing for morale.

"Trouble is exactly right, a herd of Walkers came through, scared the hell out of all us, especially Sophia, Carol's daughter," the older gentleman said as he walked with Harry to the majority of the group, rifle cradled in his arms, "she took off into the woods with Rick and the others right behind her.  That's all we know for now."

"That's rough, if I thought it would help, I'd offer my services, but right now too many people will muddy the tracking signs," Harry said to the group at large "kids are really smart in ways that adults grow out of, I'm sure your daughter will be okay."

There was no response from the grieving lady, but the brunette didn't seem to trust Harry or his words, but that was okay.  Harry had learned a long, long time ago that you couldn't please anyone and it was pointless to sometimes even try.  He would bite his tongue if it would help to keep peace, but he wouldn't roll over and show his belly either.  It was a skill he had learned by watching Hermione at her best taking the surviving members of the Wizengamot to task after the hell that was the aftermath of the Battle of Hogwarts.

"I am sorry through that I can't help, but is there anything I can do?  I've got some soup, if anyone thinks they can eat?" Harry asked, already setting his travel bag on the ground and pulling out two very large canning jars full of freshly made tomato soup.  While his Aunt Petunia rarely made anything that could be described as decent in the kitchen once Harry was old enough to figure out the recipes and actually see over the counter without standing on a stepstool, tomato soup was a specialty that Petunia made for anyone in the household that was sick.  Except for Harry that is, but he had learned all the same to make it like she did.

"Oh my God!  How can you even think that anyone can eat right now?  Everyone is so worried sick, that even thinking about food is making me ill," the brunette said with a scoff and a very Petunia like glare down her pretty nose. 

 Harry looked up at the woman from his crouch on the ground, settling the jars gently on the asphalt.  The brunette really was just a prettier version of his aunt, and Harry hoped that the husband (if she had one) wasn't anything like his Uncle Vernon, Harry couldn't be sure that he could be polite if that was the case.

"Three reasons mainly, she," Harry began pointing to the grieving mother "looks like she's about to take a header onto the asphalt from shock, which food can help with.  The whole lot of you look like you've not had decent food in ages, and lastly because it's what any decent person would do if they can offer it."

"For fuck's sake Lori!  The man just wants to feed us, that's a normal human response in times of stress.  You don't have to eat," a pretty older blonde woman said.  She was standing on the fringes of the group, almost like an outcast but one of her own making.  Something had happened, Harry thought, that had turned the blonde against part or all of the members of the group.  It could be that she lost someone, either due to unforeseen circumstance or through the inaction of someone else.  Either way it would be prudent to keep an eye on her, and the woman named Lori.

The blonde then turned to Harry and motioned him toward the RV he had noticed that morning, "We can really do much to heat anything up right now, but we have bowls inside we can use.  It's been a rough couple days,"

That wasn't news to Harry.  It had been a rough couple months for everyone that he could see, and it was only bound to get worse.  As the pair worked to divvy up the soup as equally as they could, making sure that the only kid left in the group got just a bit more than the others, Harry and the blonde; who introduced herself as Andrea, talked about their experiences so far.  It was amazing to Harry that the group had lasted for months at the quarry before being overrun by the Walkers (a name that Harry picked up from their talks so far).  

 


End file.
